The Star of BCH3

His name is Wang KangPing, and he's probably around 2, almost 3, though I never asked the ladies there specifically how old he was. The first day, when we were being taken around by Brent to tour the China Care facilities, we came into BCH2, and Kang Ping was the first to greet us. He immediately walked over, not having seen any of us before, with his arms held up. The only thing I could think of to do was stoop down and pick him up. When I stood back up again, with him sitting in the crook of my arm, he proceeded to play with the light switches, laughing and pointing as he pushed them on and off.

This little boy was the reason I went back to BCH2 for our first volunteering session that morning. I was hoping to get a chance to play with him again, but unfortunately he was outside with another A-Yi at the time. But I did get more time later in the week and throughout our stay in Beijing. Kang Ping was actually from BaoJi, which is why his last name was designated as Wang (all the kids from the same childrens home all have the same last name). He was very active - he walked easily and quickly - and always animated. When other kids fought with him for toys, he would fight back, but when they wanted to play together with him, he would play.

He was really smart too. All the ladies there encouraged me to teach him English words, because he would learn them quickly. One morning, he was eating an apple, and I taught him to say apple in English; the next afternoon, when Erica went to volunteer in BCH2, he impressed her with this new word. It made me extremely happy to hear that he had remembered what I taught him.

It wasn't until the second week that I learned exactly what his disability was. He had a heart condition that caused cyanosis - a blue tinge in his outerextremities like his hands and feet and lips. KangPing was small and skinny, and his body always felt a little cold, and now I realized why. But you would never be able to tell that he was a sick child just by his personality - you would have guessed that he was the happiest and healthiest little boy there.

The saddest part of the story was the day we found out that Kang Ping was actually scheduled to leave BCH. It was the second Wednesday of our time there, and one of the ladies in BCH2 told me that he was getting ready to leave that day. They kept saying to him in Chinese, "are you ready to go see your grandfather?" The news was that his grandfather was coming to get him. I was actually volunteering when they came to get him. Brent was taking us out to lunch that day, and while we were waiting for everybody to arrive, we saw his grandfather come walk into Building 15 where the office was located.

The story, we later learned at lunch, was that Kang Ping's grandparents had abandoned him at BaoJi earlier in the year. They brought Kang Ping to Beijing and were hoping to give him surgery for his heart condition. However, before that surgery could take place, his grandfather contacted China Care and asked to have Kang Ping back. So China Care flew him into Beijing to pick up his grandson. The next step was to inform the grandfather that China Care would also pay for Kang Ping's operation - it would be completely free of charge for his grandparents, and it was something that his grandparents, in their entire lifetime, would probably never be able to afford. All he would have to do was consent. Though I was sad to see Kang Ping go, I was glad that he was being reunited with his family, and hopeful that he would be able to live a healthy rest of his life.

Two days later, while I was volunteering in BCH1, I heard the ladies talking about Kang Ping and discovered that the grandfather had not consented to the surgery. I was completely suprised. It would significantly help Kang Ping's health, and China Care was willing to pay for the whole procedure. The ladies said that it was mostly likely out of fear that Kang Ping's grandfather said no. They guessed that he was probably afraid that China Care wouldn't actually give the boy back to him. It was a choice that I didn't expect him to make, knowing the things that China Care worked and stood for.

Wang Kang Ping was definitely one of the little ones who made my time in Beijing Children's Home worthwhile, though I only got to spend a little bit of time with him. His story is sad, like those of many of the children there, and it made me realize the tragedy that really goes on in these orphanages. But it also makes the volunteer work we do that much more valuable.

Being Three

A few months ago, I watched with amusement as my 18 year old friend threw an orange peel out the window of our moving car and clapped with joy when it zipped behind us. "I wish I were three again!" he had exclaimed, "Then every physical experience would be so exciting."

Being at the Beijing Children's Home was probably the closest I've felt to being three again. My favorite kid, Huei-huei, was a 'toddler' in BCH3 (she couldn't quite toddle yet). The first time I sat down next to her, she handed me the little picture book she had been holding almost immediately. I was flattered for a few seconds before she reached out her hands and claimed it back. For the next fifteen minutes or so, we engaged in this simple ritual of passing the book back and forth. I have never seen anyone so overjoyed over something so simple. Every few passes, she would stop, look up at me, and beam.

Over the next few days, she discovered new sources of amusement. She absolutely loved the sound of clipboards, containing all details of the babies' conditions, against the wooden shelf. (The supervisor was not so amused.) She loved the sound of her own hand pounding against the wooden shelf. She loved smiling into the mirror and would always giggle when I helped her lean forward and touch the mirror. She loved watching a next-door neighbor ride a bike past the window. I loved that she loved these things, and I loved that she could do all of these things over and over again. The best part was how she would smile ridiculously, absolutely ridiculously, every single time.

A Blog Tour of Beijing Children's Home

Beijing Children's Home is located within a huge apartment complex called YuXiang Garden in the ShunYi Province of Beijing. (The name always reminded me of the chinese dish YuXiang Eggplant. But the tones are definitely NOT not the same. At least it helped me remember what the place was called :D). There are lots of senior citizens who live in the complex, and lots of kids.

There must have been around 30 large separate apartment buildings within the complex. Each building was given a number, and there were a certain number of "doors" within each building. (The doors basically divided the building up into sections.) Each door was an entrance to one section of the building, and went up 5 flights of stairs, with two apartments per floor. I'm not exactly sure exactly how many apartments China Care was using, but they were spread out all over the place as opposed to all in one door of one building.

The main office, which we went to immediately when we arrived to YuXiang Garden, was located in building 15, on the first floor of door 1. This is where they had all the administrative things going on. There was a large whiteboard that was split up into the different children's homes that China Care oversees. On the board were laminated cards with the babies' names on them, and these cards helped keep track of where each child was. For example, when the BaoJi kids were moved to Beijing, their names were moved respectively on the white board to reflect where they were at the moment. It's a pretty clever system, though relatively recently organized. The office also took care of donations, which we promptly gave to them when we arrived. Several staff members had their offices in this apartment, and it was interesting to see how a normally residential area was turned into a work environment.

There are four children's homes altogether in Beijing. Everybody there called them B-C-Hs. BCH 2 was right across the hall from the office, and BCH1 was upstairs of that. BCH3 was on the first floor of building 5 of the complex, and BCH4 was upstairs of that. All of the BCHs housed babies except for BCH3, which was home to the toddlers.

We lived in building 27. To get to it, we had to go past an awkward white fence that just sort of cut through part of the complex. Our apartment was number 101 in door 1, and was actually the place where Brent housed his guests that came for his business purposes. Since our plans were changed, we were in search of a nice place to stay for not too much money, and Brent's place worked out perfectly. It was sort of like the style of a dorm, where there were just beds stacked on top of eachother and in the rooms (there must have been around 16 total or so), and there was a kitchen, two bathrooms, and a dining room area. It was right in the complex, so we didn't have to travel to volunteer. It had wireless, which was a huge plus. Overall, a very comfortable place to be - we lucked out, since there were no other interns there at the time, which meant there was space for us to stay. If we were going to be there past June 15th, we would have to find somewhere else to go.

The street that YuXiang Garden was located on was fairly busy, and there were lots of things going on closeby. The North gate had a hotel nearby, along with a restaurant, post office, and a beauty salon. Not too far from the complex were a supermarket (Rainbow: we ended up buying a lot of bananas from them :D), more apartments, a bank, another supermarket and small and older villages and streets where people lived. One of my favorite places was the "village," as the three of us called it. It was a five minute walk from where we lived, and it was like a whole complex of small shops, restaurants, and an outdoor market. It was very busy all throughout the day. There was also a park closeby that had an ampitheater and an exercise arena for senior citizens. The location was great.

Getting to Beijing Children's Home

Our first task in our China Care summer experience was actually getting there....it took us almost a whole TWO DAYS to arrive to Beijing.

The tickets we (Erica Lin, Emily Hsu, and I) booked brought us from Boston to Chicago to Shanghai, and from there we had planned to fly to BaoJi. But those plans were disrupted due to the aftershocks of the earthquake that were still in the area. What made things worse was that American Airlines decided to keep us in Chicago for a whole 12 hours after we were supposed to have taken off. The first leg of our trip was to get from Boston to Chicago, which went fine, but meant that we had to leave for the airport around 3 AM....I seriously slept from the moment I sat in my seat until we had to get off the plane. I had no recollection of take off, landing, the complimentary beverage service, or anything else, haha.

Once we got to Chicago, we were definitely tired and wanted to be on our way, but that of course couldn't be the case. The problem apparently was a part of the plane that they were waiting to get fixed. That later turned into finding a replacement for that part of the plane, which then became finding another plane altogether, a whole half a day later. We actually even boarded the plane, and then were asked to get off because the problem was not fixed. I guess I would have much preferred to fly later than stall 35,000 km in the air, but the 12 hour delay was still no fun.

So after 2 meal vouchers, free diet coke, lots of reading, and some sleeping in awkard positions in the gate-area seats, we finally boarded and finally got to Shanghai. At midnight their time....

Luckily my uncle came to the rescue and picked us up there. He had originally found and booked us tickets to BaoJi, but when that ended up getting cancelled, he returned them and waited for us to arrive in Shanghai to get tickets to Beijing. The ticket counters weren't open until 6 AM, so we did some more waiting/sleeping/reading. Fortunately, we got tickets that left for Beijing from Shanghai at 11AM, which gave us time to have breakfast....at KFC :D

The domestic Chinese airline was run so much better than American, haha. All the flight attendants were these tiny, young Chinese women wearing perfectly clean and purple uniforms and a red bow tied at their collars, and they were all hovering over you to make sure things were taken care of. I was very impressed...and comfortable, haha.

But we finally arrived!!! Thank goodness....when we got to where we were staying, I swear I slept for 12 hours straight.

Welcome to the Harvard China Care Summer Blog

Finally, the summer we all have been waiting and preparing for this whole spring is here.

 

No matter where we are right now, our hearts are in China, with the orphaned children and the Harvard interns, as we click open this blog.

 

All readers are probably as excited as the writers (who are, were, or about to be) in action. 

 

Dear writers, I believe you know what to do.

We eagerly await to hear from you!

Hope among suffering

 The most handicapped orphans are kept on the fifth floor of Saiqi orphanage, where they spend almost the entire day confined to uncomfortable wooden boxes -- "cribs" -- which they share with one or two other infants.  Some of the babies are so painfully tiny, premature, and delicate that when I first arrived at Saiqi (in Summer 2007) and held them in my arms I was afraid to move a muscle.  I couldn't help but think that there was so little that I (or anyone else) could do for these children, and I had never felt so helpless. They had not been given a chance in life, and I could not help but cry openly as I first held a few of them in my arms.

    Poverty and suffering in other countries are difficult for us to conceive, let alone personalize. But when it's in front of you, in your arms, it's the only truth for that moment in time. The inescapable realities of life in places like Saiqi are those of extreme poverty, hard and unrelenting labor, little hope, early death, and considerable tragedy in between.  But the feeling I took away from my experience was something other than that of despair or abandoned hope.  

    The caretakers in the orphanage, all of whom were basically uneducated, middle-aged Chinese women, taught me by example things that would have been difficult to learn in a classroom. The caretakers washed cloth diapers, bathed, and fed the children in the orphanage as if each were their own child. They gave their entire lives to this unglamorous, menial, but important and essential, work. They taught me that, on most days, you will work until every muscle in your body aches, and it will still not be enough. They also taught me by example, in their quiet and unassuming way, that it takes not only physical endurance but mental strength to commit oneself, day after day, to the task of caring for these orphaned children. I cannot frankly think of anything more challenging, more worthwhile, or more inspiring.

--- Katie, 2007 Summer Intern

A Summer in SaiQi: Meeting, Loving, and Missing the Kids

  Humming a tune the kids sang during the Chinese Duck Duck Goose game, I jumped up to chase Xiao Bin after she dropped a small beach ball behind my back.  Everyone laughed when I as the “Goose” promptly disgraced myself by tripping and nearly falling in my efforts to tag her.  By the time I finished my turn, I was more than happy to head toward my new seat in the circle, opposite of my original spot. 

     Happy, that is, until I saw six year-old Si Si, looking at me as I did not return to sit next to her again. Her confused and disappointed expression did not last long, however.  Chosen next to be the “Goose,” she dropped the ball behind the person to my right, quickly ran around the circle, and with a smile, leaped onto my lap. 

     Before arriving at the orphanage, I wondered whether or not I could connect with the kids when I could not speak their language.  Would the kids even like me if I could only respond with the blank stare like that of an innocent baby when they spoke to me?  I discovered the answer for myself.  It was only the third day of our trip to SaiQi, but it struck me as I hugged Si Si, “I am really going to miss these kids.” 

     During our month in China, Edith, Tiana, Katie and I, along with five Hong Kong Polytechnic University students, were at the orphanage generally from 8:45 AM to 5 PM every day, with a break in the middle for lunch.  From karate, ballet and arts and crafts during the mornings to cooking, English lessons, and games in the afternoon, we always tried to do creative, fun activities that the kids otherwise would never get to do. 

     These talented kids learned English fast and eagerly.  They excitedly tried out s’mores, jello, and fries.  They loved making picture frames from the funny-looking wood that are called Popsicle sticks. They even braved the smell of fingernail polish to experiment with nail painting.  They tried to avoid getting wet by the water balloons, though. 

     In the afternoons, we were able to spend time with the children who are more severely disabled and who often lie on their beds all day.  Just simply holding the children and providing them stimulation made a huge difference in bringing smiles to their faces.  The time I have spent with them, seeing their smiles, made any difficulties with adjusting to the filth and diet of the small town of SaiQi more than worth it for me. 

     It has been inspiring to see all these kids overcome the many challenges that they face and accomplish so much.  For instance, Qiao Yun, who is one of our brightest and most enthusiastic students during English lessons, has abnormally well-developed muscles.  Miao Yu, who is one of the friendliest and most eager kids, is mostly blind.  Si Si, who surprised me with her energy and talkative nature after her initial quiet reluctance to participate in activities, cannot use the right side of her body as well.  

     As a result of this summer, I decided to learn Mandarin Chinese, and what we do in Harvard China Care has taken on new meaning for me.  I will never forget our last day in SaiQi, especially when Si Si suddenly kissed me on the cheek. 

     In the near future, I hope to be able to visit every single one of the adorable, amazing kids in SaiQi Orphanage again.  We can look over the hundreds of pictures I took of them with my camera.  I can try to speak Mandarin well enough to hold the conversations I wish we could have had this summer.  And just maybe—if I am lucky—we can even play a game of Duck Duck Goose.

--- Elaine, 2007 Summer Intern

Diary entry after returning from Luoyang

Dear Diary,

I have just returned from my summer at the Luoyang orphanage and miss it already.  Wow!  Let’s see where to begin.  This summer I met some of the most courageous, most appreciative, most patient, and most thoughtful people I have ever encountered.  And that’s just talking about the kids under 10!  What most impresses me about these children is their intuition to want the best for others even though they themselves may not live optimally. One day I complimented 7-year old friend Sara Abby’s hair clip, and at that instant, she immediately took it out of her hair and put it in mine.  I had to scramble around and trick her into looking the other way to get it back in her hair.  Besides possessing such amazing personal attributes, many of the orphans are also insanely talented.  They can sing opera, dance, conduct an orchestra, do kung fu, play multiple instruments, knit beautiful garments, cut paper into complex designs, write Chinese characters with their feet, and much more!  Needless to say, I was blown away.

            Outside of the orphanage, I traveled around the city and to some tourism sites.  By exploring the city and its restaurants and shops, I was able to come in contact with some extremely kind, but also vastly different, people.  One man went out and purchased a map just to show me the various tourism locations and then carefully explained to me how to get to each and every one of them.  Another time, after I had bought some man tou, the merchant lady hustled down a full block to catch up to me merely to bring me a bag of the more delicious ones.  I watched her run back to her cart in awe.

            Most of all, I miss the children.  I remember the outstretched arms of the younger orphans who just wanted a bao bao, to be held with some love and affection.  Leaving them was difficult enough, but figuring out a way to accomplish more to improve the situation for all of the orphans in China will be the next obstacle to overcome.  This summer I have gained many things, but mainly I have been filled with the desire and ambition to step back, view the circumstances of present day China on a larger scale, and direct my aims to improving these circumstances.

Back in the US ,

Brittany Lin
Luoyang 2006